Misconceptions
by Tywyllwch Prydferth
Summary: Misconceptions had been a part of Allison Cameron’s life for as long as she could remember. WARNING: Suicidal thoughts implied.


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N: **First House fanfic so any advice/criticism/comments are welcome. Oneshot fic, just something that came to me some time ago. Set sometime during season 3.

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Misconceptions had been a part of Allison Cameron's life for as long as she could remember. As a child, aunties and uncles she could never remember having would always smile and tell her what a sweet child she was, ask her whether she wanted to become a dancer when she was older or an actress. Truth was, during that time of her life, she had her heart set on being a chemist or some mad scientist who spent their day blowing things up.

As she grew older, her interest drifted to the more medical side of science. She no longer had the desire to watch chemicals react, more watch how they cured people. Of course, when she told her parents that she wanted to become a doctor they automatically assumed it was the desire to help people that was the reason behind it, she was still their sweet child after all, and even though that reason held an appeal, she was more interested in discovering how chemicals could react to cure other illnesses, how different quantities of the same chemical could have different effects on the body. She was interested in the science behind it all, not the feel-good factor.

This changed when she reached medical school and she sat alone surrounded by the whitewash walls of the hospital as she watched her husband slowly pass away. Suddenly she was full of a determination to limit the amount of families who would have to go through the grief she suffered. She was realistic in her thoughts, she knew that as a doctor she wouldn't be able to save everyone, but if she could save just one family the pain of losing a loved one prematurely she would know that she had made some sort of difference. And so, as she stood outside the church that autumn day watching as her husband's coffin was lowered into the ground she wore a small single white rose in contrast with her black outfit to signify her renewed outlook on life, while people around her were surprised by how well she had taken the blow, surprised that she didn't follow another false image they had subconsciously labelled her with.

When she told people that she had applied for a fellowship under Dr. House she was immediately welcomed with more misguided remarks telling her that he wasn't the type of boss she would want, that she wouldn't be able the handle his unconventional methods. She surprised them when two and a half years later she was still working for him without complaint.

But even in the job that she had grown to love so much she was constantly bombarded with more misconceptions and misguided opinions. From her boss thinking that he knew her so well, that any feelings she held for him was down to the desire to fix him, that she had the desire to fix everyone she met, to the common image people labelled her with as the naïve young woman who wanted to save the world, who was filled with so much hope.

How they would all be surprised, yet again, if they could see her now, sitting in the darkened lab in the hospital her eyes firmly fixed on the syringe in her hands. This was sweet and innocent Cameron after all, she was happy. Turning the object over in her hands, they would never understand her, they would never understand the extent the bitter loneliness filled her damaged body, the darkness that had taken over her mind.

"Cameron"

A gruff voice interrupted her thoughts and Cameron didn't need to look behind her to know who it was. Now it was her turn to be surprised, not so much by the fact he was at the hospital at this late hour but more by the understanding tone that was in his voice. She didn't acknowledge his presence though, just stared at the carefully calculated amount of chemical that lay in the glass tube. It was 

fitting she thought that something she held so much love for in the past would now finally give her the peace her body craved for.

"Cameron"

The voice came again, closer this time. A small smile formed on her pale face, he always managed to turn up when she didn't want him to. Her mind still focused on the task in hand, eyes transfixed on the cold object in her grasp, it took a hand on her shoulder to break her concentration. One little touch, one little bit of contact was all it took to get her to break. A single tear at first running down her soft cheek before shoulders slumped and began to shake as more followed. She hardly noticed that the syringe had been carefully taken from her and now lay on the table beside her. Grief had overcome her, grief at what she was about to do, what she would surely try and do again. Turning, she buried her face into the shoulder of the only person who had the potential to understand what she felt each and every day. The sound of a cane being placed against the metal counter was heard over her quiet sobs and soon after, the feeling of a warm steady hand was present against her lower back.

"I'm sorry"

The voice was quiet this time, not the usual sarcastic bitterness she had come to expect. She understood what he meant; the labelling, preconceptions and stereotypes he had bombarded her with when deep down he knew that she was as damaged as him. Looking up, eyes met, forming their own silent and intense conversation, exposing their very souls. They always said more in their silences than they did with words and Cameron knew at that point that he understood; he had his own set of misconceptions to deal with, his own bitter darkness flowing through his body.

Feeling his hand move down towards hers, she gripped it tightly, needing the contact, the support. Silently he led her from the lab, from the place she had let her demons torment her so many times in the past and slowly but surely began to feel less alone.

fin.

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**A/N: **Still not happy with the ending but hey, I never am.


End file.
